


'cause cover girls don't cry (after their face is made)

by transgirluma (gayapplewhite)



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Art Student Mal, F/F, Model Evie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayapplewhite/pseuds/transgirluma
Summary: “[the model] has beautiful dark blue and black hair and her lipstick is a dark red, and mal can feel the blush painting her own usually pale skin a blotchy red, and then the model makes eye contact with her andwinksand mal has never been one for swooning, butdamn.”or; mal is an art student and evie is the class's gorgeous model.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request on tumblr and it kind of got out of hand. either way, i'm really happy with it for now, so i put it here. technically the request was for “a malvie au where mal is an art student and evie is a fashion design student who ends up modeling for one of mal's classes (+mal doesn't know how to function anymore)” and i'm really sorry i didn't incorporate evie being a fashion design student more but i felt it would interrupt the flow of the piece, and i hope whoever requested it doesn't mind too much. either way, i'm really happy with this piece, and if you like it, kudos and comments are appreciated!!

mal walks into her drawing iii class and barely glances at the model, and - _ohmygodholyshitshe'sgoregeous_. she sits down at her desk and begins arranging her charcoal so she can easily reach it when she needs it and then she looks up again and (oh _fuck_ ) the model is looking at her now. she has beautiful dark blue and black hair and her lipstick is a dark red, and mal can feel the blush painting her own usually pale skin a blotchy red, and then the model makes eye contact with her and _winks_ and mal has never been one for swooning, but _damn._ mal looks down again, still blushing a bright red and the instructor walks in, introduces the model, and evie (which mal has been informed is the name of the model, which fits her because evie means life, and mal thinks she has never seen anyone more _alive_ ) starts in on the first pose. mal picks up her charcoal and thanks everything she has that this isn't a life drawing class.

the poses are all simple poses, which mal is thankful for because she can't look at evie for more than a few seconds without blushing and losing her train of thought. she makes up her mind halfway through the second pose that during break she's going to talk to her. after the third pose, the instructor calls for a break, and evie relaxes, folding smaller into herself. before mal can get a word in (she's honestly thankful because she really doesn't even know what she'd say) evie has her phone out and wanders off into the hallway to take a phone call or something.

when evie comes back in after break, her makeup is smudged in a way that would look bad on anyone else but just looks like it was done intentionally to bring attention to her eyes (which, for the record, are a warm brown). something besides that seems off though. evie seems anxious, fiddling with her hair in between poses, and each pose doesn't seem quite as bold as before.

when the class is over, mal closes her sketchbook and shoves it in her bag, hoping to catch evie to talk to her before she leaves, but when mal looks up, evie's already gone. ally, mal's occasional painting partner and sort-of friend, giggles a little at her.

“laugh it up, ally,” mal grumbles. “you already have a girlfriend, stop mocking those of us who don't.”

“damn straight i do,” ally says, grinning. “or i guess it's damn gay.” ally laughs uproariously at this, as though no one else in the world has ever made that joke before. it's a good thing freddie appreciates her sense of humor, mal thinks as she grabs her bag, because she sure doesn't.

on her way out, she notices a dark blue leather jacket on a chair by the podium, and mal recognizes it as having belonged to evie. she grabs it, hoping for an excuse to talk to her and then walks out of the classroom. mal is about to leave the building when she hears a faint sniffling from the art closet, and opens it only to find evie, crying with her makeup smudged down her cheeks.

“um, i found your jacket,” mal says awkwardly.

evie looks up at her with tears still rolling down her cheeks. “thanks,” she says. “i made it myself. um, i'm sorry about...all this.”

“it's okay,” mal says. “crying in an art closet just kind of comes with being an art student. happens to the best of us at least once.”

evie snort-laughs for a moment before asking, “really?”

“cross my heart and hope to die,” mal says, before gesturing that evie should scoot over so mal can take a seat next to her. “even the art department's poster child ruby. they found her after her first gallery show - which went horribly, by the way, almost no one went and i _know_ that part's true because i did go - sobbing in the painting closet because ruby's mom sold out her first gallery show and she wasn't 'living up to expectations' or some shit.” mal sits down next to evie, putting her bag by her feet. it's a little cramped, but it's not like mal is exactly unhappy about being in a closet with a pretty girl. hell, that was pretty much all of her high school experience. “you should be lucky this is not the painting closet, by the way, because, for the record, i can say that having an easel digging into your back while you're bawling your eyes out is not exactly a pleasant experience.”

evie snort-laughs again, and mal grins. “so, what exactly has you crying alone in the drawing closet?” mal asks. “i mean, if you want to talk about it with someone you just met five minutes ago.”

“um, my boyfriend broke up with me,” evie says.

“that sucks,” mal says honestly.

“and we were supposed to have dinner with his parents tonight, too,” evie adds miserably.

“what a fuckass,” mal says. “do you want me to arrange for him to have an accident? because my painting partner has a girlfriend who dabbles in the occult and between me and her, i think we could make it happen.”

evie shakes her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. “no, it's okay,” she says. “i mean, i didn't really like him that much anyway, but my mom liked him, and he was rich, and he was sweet occasionally,” evie says softly.

“only sweet occasionally?” mal says incredulously. “what a dick.”

evie nods in agreement. “i mean, yeah. but we'd been dating since high school and it was easier just to stay with him than to make a big scene and break up, especially when he was cheating on me.”

mal rolls her eyes. “you didn't break up with him when he was cheating on you?”

“no. well. yes. i wanted to,” evie explains. “but his family is super rich and in the public eye all the time and i didn't want to be the girl who dumped him, you know?”

“no,” mal admits. she is nothing but if not a believer in the philosophy that if someone is cheating on you, they aren't worth your time. “i mean, i don't know. but he totally should've treated you better. he's gotta know that you could get way better than him. i mean, look at you. you're gorgeous.”

evie grins. “thanks. but he had, like, the biggest ego ever, so he thought he was the best _any_ girl could get.”

mal shakes her head ruefully. “what a jerk.”

“yeah,” evie agrees, and then looks over at mal. “hey, do you, uh, want to get coffee sometime or something? like, in a date kind of way.”

“i mean, i'd love to,” mal asks. “but are you sure? you just got out of what sounds like a really long relationship.”

evie examines her reflection in the mirror and begins to wipe the makeup smeared down her cheeks off. “yes,” she says. “i'm ready to move on. i should've broken up with him years ago.”

“well, that's a date then,” mal says. “do you want my number then or do you want to give me yours?”

instead of replying, evie grabs mal's arm and writes down her number with a blue glitter gel pen. and then evie gathers her stuff and stands up, walking away and mouthing 'call me' at mal and mal just looks at the numbers written in glittery blue ink on her arm and smiles.


End file.
